


Mushrooms Are Friends, Not Food

by Illubuu



Series: Dark Souls [2]
Category: Dark Souls (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Baby Mushrooms, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:36:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23416837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illubuu/pseuds/Illubuu
Summary: Quar'en makes an old blacksmith friend, a mysterious glowing friend, and a small mushroom friend. She does not, however, makes friends with the Great Gray Wolf.
Series: Dark Souls [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597057
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Mushrooms Are Friends, Not Food

Quar'en heard Andre before she saw him. Truthfully, she had assumed he was another beast that lay in wait for her to draw close enough to get a hearty swipe at her before she even had the chance to raise her shield. She descended the creaking stairs, heart in her throat, terrified of the monstrous creature that lay in wait. 

_ This area is too small,  _ she thought.  _ There's no way to get a good swing in here. I'll have to try- _

As she rounded the final corner of the stairs, she stopped. Instead of some gaping horror, tongue lolling from a razor sharp mouth that never closes, she saw a man. Bearded and quite old, he was intently focused on his task. He pounded away at red hot metal, forcing it into the shape of a blade. Quar'en watched. She hadn't yet had to fight a human - at least one that wasn't Hollow - and whether they were human or not was still up for debate. She inched further down the stairs. "Hello?"

The man didn't look up.

Quar'en went forwards a bit more. "Hello?"

He heard her this time. His hammer stopped mid swing and he looked up, smile visible even through his heavy beard. "Well, not often I get visitors down here."

"You're not..." Quar'en paused, toying with her words, "You're not out to kill me are you?"

His laugh was deep and surprisingly comforting. "No, no I'm not. Can't blame you for being careful." He waved her down. "Come closer, years of pounding metal has me half deaf in my right ear."

Quar'en descended the rest of the stairs, but still stayed back a comfortable distance.

"Name's Andre. Yourself?"

"Quar'en."

"Hm. Quite a name. And quite the helmet."

Quar'en reached up, feeling the curved metallic tusks on her boar helmet. She truthfully kept forgetting just how odd this piece of armor was - more boar than helmet. "Thank you."

"In any case, pleased to make your acquaintance."

"And yours," Quar'en answered out of habit. She moved a little closer, but stopped mid stride when she heard a commotion through the doorway to her left. She swung her blade around. The darkness through the threshold obscured whatever lay beyond it - or perhaps the bright flames from Andre's workshop made it difficult for Quar'en's eyes to adjust. It sounded like stones shifting, sliding across the ground. She raised her shield up higher when Andre spoke.

“Just stay a bit further back from the door and he won’t both you.”

“He?”

“Titanite fella. Can’t move very fast, but he’s got a nasty swing with that spear of his. Well, that and the lightning.”

Quar’en turned. “Lightning?”

“You can outrun ‘im though. Like I said, not very fast.”

“Why in the world would I even want to go near him? What’s he  _ doing _ in there?”

Andre sat back from his anvil. “Not quite sure, to be honest. The other side of the room leads to the Gardens, but it’s not like there aren’t enough things over there protecting it themselves. Most of the people come down here just race on past ‘em. Think I’ve only seen two or three people actually kill ‘em. Tough fellas they were, though.”

Quar’en almost asked if she didn’t look tough enough to defeat... whatever was beyond that door, but decided against it. Instead, she lowered her shield and heaved a sigh. “What are you doing down here?”

“Smithing. What else does it look like?” That smile crept up through Andre’s beard again.

“Right,” Quar’en replied. She looked behind him, seeing the mountains of spears and swords and shields that lined the walls. “Who’re those for?”

“Anybody that wants ‘em.”

“Do a lot of people come through here?”

“More than you’d think, yes.”

“I haven’t seen very many others around. I could count them on one hand.”

Andre hummed. “This place is a strange one. I see people who, for you, are nothing more'n a gentle breeze passing. We stand in the same place, but don’t exist there.”

“I-” Quar’en paused. She hadn’t expected such eloquence from the bearded blacksmith and she chided herself for thinking such. “I thought most of everyone else was hollow.”

“That’s still true. A pity, so many people reduced to shamblin' corpses. But there are others like you. Fresh-faced.”

Quar’en turned back towards the door. She shivered, thinking to when she had first seen her hands, wrinkled and decayed. She remembered feeling her hollowed, sicken eyes and the utter revulsion she had felt. Physically, she felt no different. Her sword was no heavier and her movements didn’t feel restricted. But there was still an essence of... loss. As if something that should have been there was there no longer. A missing piece. Even worse, when she had found the first bonfire and renewed herself, that missing piece stayed missing. “I think I’m far from fresh-faced.”

“You’ve got a ways to go, if you’re going where I think you’re going.”

“And that would be?”

Andre laughed. “Ends of the Earth.”

Quar’en shook her head. “You said there were Gardens just through that doorway?”

“Mm, and past the beast.”

“Are they actual gardens?”

“Dunno. Never been over there myself, only heard stories.”

Quar’en hummed. She fidgeted with her sword hilt, looking between Andre and the darkness beyond the door. “How big is he? The beast?”

“Pretty hefty. A good ten... maybe fifteen feet tall? Though he doesn’t have much in the way of legs. Just shuffles.”

“No legs?” Quar’en shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was, considering all of the beasts she had faced so far. Though the thought that this monstrosity couldn’t come charging at her was a comforting one. She turned back to Andre. “You wouldn’t happen to be able to sharpen this for me?”

Andre chuckled, placing the sword he had been working on behind him. “Ah, I thought you’d never ask!”

Andre made quick work of Quar’en's sword - one she had obtained from the corpse of a Black Knight a ways back. It felt the most familiar in her hands, a similar weight to the ones she had carried back home. When she took it back into her hands, it shone far brighter than it had the whole time she had carried it. It looked nearly new.

"I didn't realize this blade was actually black."

"Neither did I, first time I worked on one. Story goes that they were charred but no amount of elbow grease is getting those silver again."

Quar'en twisted the blade in her hand. She could see her faint reflection and absently noted how wild her hair was. Did this place even have hair brushes? "Sounds like it's something a little deeper than charcoal, then."

Andre hummed. 

"Thank you, though. I'm sure this will make surviving much easier."

"Those blades are 'specially made to kill demons, too. So you decide to try and take a chunk out of our friend back there and you've got as best a chance as you're going to get."

Quar'en scoffed. "You never mentioned it was a demon."

"Doesn't much matter around here," Andre laughed. "Demons look like monsters and monsters look like beasts. The only ones who care are the methods meant to kill 'em."

Quar'en tightened her grip on the blade and turned to the demon door. 

"I expect to see you again," Andre said.

"If you can sharpen my sword like this everytime, absolutely."

Andre huffed. "That all I'm good for?"

Quar'en turned and gave him a smile, seeing he, too, couldn't keep his face from cracking out into a grin. "See you... later?"

"Good luck to you. Stay safe."

"As safe as one can be," Quar'en replied quietly, almost to herself. She shimmied a little and then stepped forwards through the door.

The sound of stone scraping stone grew louder and, once Quar'en's eyes had adjusted, she had to use every ounce of her willpower to keep from backpedaling into the safety of Andre's room.

_ What in God's name is that! _

The demon was already facing her, not needing to take any time to readjust. It swung its massive staff around to point in her direction and it lit up yellow.

_ Lightning!  _

Quar'en rolled, completely missing the fact that there were stairs. Her shoulder landed hard on the first step and her body rolled awkwardly to a stop at the bottom. Her back had caught on the blunt, uneven edges of the broken steps, shooting lines of dull, aching pain down to her toes. She heard her sword clatter to the floor somewhere beside her and the sharp sizzle of electricity explode on the wall. Quar'en scrambled to her feet.

Her eyes caught on the asymmetrical monstrosity for only glance. It lumbered slowly, but what it lacked in speed it made up for in presence. Even as Quar'en turned to focus on the doorway on the opposite side of the room, she could feel the eyeless gaze boring into her being.

Ignoring the throbbing in her shoulder, she hoisted her sword back into her hand, turned to the doorway, and ran full tilt.

The chamber the demon called home was a mess, destroyed by years of neglect and violence. She leapt over a fallen pillar, hearing another explosion of lightning on the concrete behind her.  _ Enough of those will bring this whole place down on top of him. _

Quar'en leapt down the second small set of stairs and ran through the doorway. The twinkling crackle of electricity echoed behind her, sending the hairs on the back of her neck to attention. She dove into the grass, hearing the ball of lightning sail above her and smash into the hill in front of her. Heart thundering in her ears, she rolled a few times, getting herself out of range of the demon, and then lay on her back. She ran her fingers over the grass, catching her breath. 

That certainly wasn't the  _ worst _ thing she'd been through in her time here, but it was up there. Quar'en closed her eyes and hoped she'd never have to run into one of those ever again. Especially in a place where she'd have to fight it.

Finally free from danger - at least for the moment - Quar'en was able to breathe. Actually, honestly,  _ breathe.  _ To smell the sweetness in the air and feel the chill on the breeze. She lifted her helmet off her head and opened her eyes, staring up into the blue, cloudless sky. 

How terrible would it be for her to just... stop? To lay here forever and let it all go. To forget herself and all the pain and strife and just... stop. It was both a comforting and terrifying thought. Quar'en ran her hands over the grass, absently pulling pieces up and sprinkling them back into the dirt. She was so lost in her own thoughts she didn't notice the figure with her until their face loomed over hers.

"You're not dead, are you?"

Quar'en sprang up, her vision blurring from the rapid movement. She hadn't picked up her sword, so she instead swung her arms up in front of her. Unarmed combat wasn't exactly her forte but-

"Well, I guess that's a silly question. We're all some type of dead here."

The figure in front of Quar'en shimmered gold. They were semi-transparent, the waves in the grass just barely visible through their robes. They smiled at her, hands held up in mock surrender. 

"I'm not your enemy," the figure said. Then smiled. "At least, not right now."

"Who are you?" Quar'en kept her hands held up in front of her. She watched the figure shimmer and she added, "What are you?"

"Depends." The figure tilted their head. "What do I look like?"

Quar'en squinted. "Shiny?"

The figure scoffed. "Haven't ever heard that one before. It's usually 'ghostly' or 'silly'."

Quar'en let her hands lower a bit. She frowned. "Do you have a name?"

"A lot of them. Which one do you want?"

"The... real one?"

"Real is subjective. What's real to me might not be real to you."

"I... what do you want me to call you?"

"If I said nothing, would you do it?"

Quar'en paused. She hadn't noticed, but her arms had fallen completely to her sides. She blinked. "Nothing?"

"Nada. Zilch. Zip."

"Okay."

A wide grin spread across their face. "I like you. Very agreeable."

Quar'en wasn't quite sure how to reply. She hemmed and hawwed in her head, bouncing from foot to foot. Her sword still lay in the grass and that made her nervous. She nodded slowly. "Thank you."

"Not a lot of you guys find your way into the Gardens. Good for you. Not exactly a fun place in a  _ normal _ sense of the word, but we're not normal either. You can call me Tricksie."

"Trixie?" Quar'en echoed.

"With a 'ck'. Like Trick?"

"That... doesn't exactly inspire confidence."

"Who said I wanted to? I prefer to be mysterious." Tricksie wandered closer and bent to inspect the sword still on the ground. She picked it up and held it up to her face. "Nice piece of metal. Sturdy."

Quar'en watched Tricksie carefully. Her one source of offensive protection now being held in Tricksie's hands made her even more nervous. She waited for any sign of aggression - a quick movement in her direction. She thought of holding her shield up, but she didn't want to make the situation any more tense. "Picked it up off a dead guy."

Tricksie quirked a brow. Then, she laughed. "As are all the best weapons around here." She reached across to hand the sword back.

Quar'en took it gratefully. "What are you doing here?"

"Watching out for people like you." There was a bout of silence before Tricksie continued. "Gets kinda boring just wandering around all by yourself all the time. I've seen all there is to see. Except for you."

A deeply unsettling feeling wormed its way into Quar'en's gut. This... person had seen all there was to see in this place and she was still here. Shouldn't she have... escaped? "I'm not sure if I should be flattered."

"Absolutely! You're the newest, freshest face I've seen in a long time. That's a good thing."

There it was again. 'Fresh face.' Quar'en felt anything but fresh. "Andre said a lot of people come through here."

"Yeah, but they're boring. All brawn and no brains. You dove head first through a doorway that you had no idea what was on the other side. I haven't seen a single other person do that. Fucking hysterical!"

Quar'en flushed. She couldn't tell if Tricksie was paying her a compliment or making fun of her. Maybe it was both. 

Tricksie continued, "And, for someone who didn't even  _ try _ to fight the Titanite Demon, you sure got yourself beat up."

Quar'en rotated her shoulder and winced.  _ And it's my sword arm no less.  _ "I hadn't expected stairs."

"Who would? There's a giant demon in there! Stairs are auxiliary."

"And useless for a demon without legs."

"They do have one leg. Though I've noticed that only makes things more difficult for them." Tricksie watched her for a moment more. "And before I forget," she pointed to the boar helmet, sitting where Quar'en had been laying, "what's with that?"

"A momento," Quar'en replied quickly, grabbing ahold of it and sliding it back atop her head. When Tricksie seemed satisfied with that answer, Quar'en turned her head to look down the path deeper into the Gardens. She pointed. "Do you know the way through there?"

"Backwards, sideways, and upside down."

"What's out there?"

"Angry trees... a big wolf. Some crystal hulkers. Oh! But the best one is the Hydra. Angry bunch they are. Ate me a few times."

Quar'en blinked. " _ Ate  _ you?"

"Swallowed me whole. Not a pleasant experience I can assure you."

"Then why would you ever go near it?"

Tricksie shrugged. "Bored. And the waterfall near there is very pretty."

Quar'en nodded along. She wiggled her sword arm, frowning at how much it still hurt. The next few battles were going to be interesting, to say the least. Hopefully whatever 'angry trees' were, they died quickly. She started to make her way down the path and Tricksie followed. It was strange to have a companion, Quar'en noted. Hearing another set of footsteps beside her own was typically a bad sign.

"The neat part about the Gardens is that there are so many things hidden in plain sight." Tricksie moved ahead on the path and pointed to a multi-colored bush in the distance. "Like... you see that? People here long before you loved to hide things in those bushes."

"Hide what?"

"Treasure," Tricksie stated plainly.

Quar'en rolled her eyes. Her luck there would be a snake coiled up, ready to strike at whoever was stupid enough to reach too close. "Alright."

"I'm serious. I'd search it for you to prove it but," Tricksie wiggled her fingers, "I'm a little ghostly for that."

The bush didn't  _ seem _ particularly evil. It was actually quite pretty. Quar'en walked up to it slowly, her eyes constantly checking back on Tricksie to make sure she hadn't moved to pull some... secret lever that would open a spike pit. It wasn't until Quar'en got within arms length - and had started to drop her guard - that the bush moved. In a sudden flurry of grass and leaves, a... thing popped up out of the ground and loomed heavily. Quar'en barely got her shield up in time before the creature swung an arm out and struck.

Quar'en held her ground and whipped her sword out in front of her in a panic. Her heart was in her throat and she aggressively ignored how much her shoulder resisted the movement. The blade caught the creature in the middle and easily sliced it in half, but it was only after it had stopped moving for a solid half a minute that Quar'en let her shoulder behind to relax. She heaved in breaths.

"Nicely done!" Tricksie cheered. "A single slice! Not many can say that they've done that!"

"What the  _ fuck _ was that?" Quar'en spun on Tricksie, blade pointed out. "What is wrong with you?"

Tricksie shrugged, a smile playing on her lips. "What's the worst that could happen? You die?" She paused. "Oh wait, you can't."

_ The worst is that I end up like all of those... husks.  _ Quar'en shivered. The adrenaline started to fade and she massaged her starting shoulder. "I'd rather not be ambushed."

"Tough luck. That's half of these monster's MOs."

"I'd rather not be  _ led _ into ambushes."

"Heh. Am-bush-es."

Quar'en groaned, letting her blade hit the ground. She immediately picked it up, not wanting to ruin the newly sharpened blade, and instead rested it on her shoulder. She started down the path again.

"Careful!" Tricksie called. "Bushes!"

The area, now that Quar'en had a moment to take it in, was strikingly beautiful... save for the murderous plants. All of the green and blue was so at odds with the gray and brown of the areas before. There was still that sweet smell in the air - though Quar'en didn't see any flowers - and a cool breeze that was incredibly refreshing. The lack of tall buildings and walls allowed the air to flow more freely. And because of their colorful heads, Quar'en found it easy to avoid the bush creatures - for the most part. A few times she was nearly pushed off the cliff by one of the 'angry trees', but aside from that she was able to enjoy the change in atmosphere.

It wasn't too long before Quar'en found the next bonfire, nestled on an outcropping. Beside it, a large stone door glowed from a white stone set in its center. After settling herself beside the fire, she pointed it out to an oddly quiet Tricksie.

"Forest Hunters," Tricksie replied. "Particularly aggressive covenant. They'll attack anybody who wanders in."

"Covenant?"

"Oh right, you haven't been here long." Tricksie settled in closer to the fire. "Covenants are just like... people's way of feeling like they belong. Groupies. A lot of the deities around here like to keep playing God and form followings. Just a long con, since no one is going anywhere fast."

"No one?"

Tricksie poked at the fire with a stick. "Not a lot of people have what it takes to go  _ anywhere _ here. They just wander and wander and wander until they lose their mind and turn Hollow, becoming another roadblock for the next guy."

"That's... depressing."

"What isn't? This place won't even let you die."

Quar'en frowned, watching the flames dance about the sword lodged in its center. "Were you ever human?"

Tricksie nodded. "You bet."

"What was your life like? Before this?"

"Lonely," Tricksie said. "I can't remember a whole lot from back then. I've existed for so long I don't even remember my name or my past. I'm just a... walking representation of the present. No past, not future, just... now."

"Do you have any idea how long?"

"Decades? Millennia? Eons? This place doesn't keep time. You just keep going until you can't anymore."

"I'm sorry, that must be awful." Quar'en turned to offer Tricksie a smile, but found she was already smiling. 

"Boy, did I ever get you!" Tricksie let out a cackle, tossing some grass into the flame. "You should have  _ seen _ your face!"

Quar'en paused, face screwed up in confusion and anger. "That was a lie?"

"Every word. A good story though, huh?"

Quar'en didn't grace that question with an answer. She instead pulled her knees to her chest and let herself drift into the whisper of the flame. This place was doing its best to wear her down and, if she was being at all truthful, it was working. She wanted to go home. She wanted to sit at the dinner table and laugh and joke over fresh turkey and cornbread. With a full stomach, she wanted to curl into her bed and sleep until noon the next day. She wanted to go sparring with her father and brother in the clearing behind the house, having to all do their best to avoid the cow pats. She wanted to make Sundown Pies with her sisters in the morning and race to the river after lunch. She wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Hey, you awake?"

Quar'en felt a stick poke her arm, tearing her from her thoughts. She hummed. "Just thinking."

"About?"

The glow of the door caught Quar'en's eye. "You said the Forest Hunters attack anyone who enters the area. What's the point of protecting the forest? Is there something... special there?"

Tricksie shook her head. "Truthfully? No. There's a grave on the other end of the forest, but they aren't protecting that. These are people who just enjoy fighting and have found a place to do it."

Quar'en frowned. She had so far assumed that everyone here was like herself - lost and looking for a way out. Though perhaps not Andre... nor Tricksie either. "You said a grave?"

"Mmhmm. Of Artorias the Abysswalker."

"Never heard of him."

Tricksie spun, sputtering, "Never heard of him? He was one of the Knights of Gwyn! A hero!"

Quar'en shrugged. "I know of Gwyn... kind of. He was some big name king, right?"

"Oh my God. I cannot believe what I'm hearing right now. Come on, up." Tricksie quickly maneuvered to her feet and offered Quar'en her hand. "We're going there so you can see."

"I'm from a small town. Big news never really reached us."

"This isn't news. This is  _ history! _ "

Tricksie saddled up to the door and reached into her pockets. She held out a small, circular amulet - just as transparent and yellow as she was - and placed it against the door. Real or not, the door responded and swung open slowly, filling the air with the sound of grinding stone.

Quar'en was reminded of the Titanite Demon.

"Keep close to me and keep moving. These guys won't follow you past the woods."

Having hardly a choice besides sitting by the bonfire, Quar'en nodded. As they descended the stairs into the woods, there didn't seem to be anyone around... not until a bright glowing blue arrow struck just to the left of the staircase.

"Of course the fucking sorcerer starts us off," Tricksie mumbled. "Shield up, and don't put it down."

Quar'en obliged, her eyes scanning to forest for anything - or anyone - else. At first, everything still looked harmless and empty, but the deeper they walked into the woods, the more people began to appear out from behind trees and rocks. "Where are they coming from?"

Tricksie grabbed ahold of Quar'en's arm suddenly. "Hold on."

Quar'en was momentarily surprised by how solid Tricksie was before a sudden BOOM knocked all thoughts from her mind. Whatever spell Tricksie cast just then, it hit Quar'en like a sack of bricks. Had she not been holding on Tricksie's arm, she would have easily been blasted back into the trees. The air was knocked from her lungs and she had barely enough time to breathe more in before Tricksie was pulling her along again.

She could see the figures of the other Forest Hunters darting around them, but they soon dissolved into more trees. 

"Not much farther!"

_ I hope not! _ Quar'en kept pace, drawing air into her slowly recovering lungs. She hardly noticed the world around her as they moved. They went down stairs and across fields and around cliff edges. Finally, Quar'en tugged at Tricksie's arm. "I... I need.... breath..."

Tricksie slowed to a stop. "You can't be that tired already."

"I'm... armor...." Quar'en could barely wheeze out a sentence. Her lungs felt bruised. She pushed up her helmet so it sat back on her shoulders. 

"Try wearing lighter armor then."

Quar'en rolled her eyes. She plopped down in the ground. "Noted." The air here didn't smell as fresh as it had in the earlier sections of the forest. This place smelled more... earthy. Like dirt. She rested her head on her knees and worked to satisfy her body's urgent need for oxygen. She could hear Tricksie pacing around her but, underneath that, she could hear the sound of... shuffling?

Quar'en looked up, straining to see where the noise was coming from. Tricksie had stopped pacing and was looking out a ways behind them.... but there were  _ definitely  _ more steps coming from somewhere. Quar'en would have been more concerned, but the steps were too soft to be a human's... or a human of any worrisome size.

"What?" Tricksie asked, having seemingly picked up on Quar'en's attention.

"You don't hear that?"

"The steps? It's just the baby mushrooms. They live around here."

Quar'en shook her head. "Baby? Mushrooms? I don't-" She cut herself off as a small figure moved in her peripheral. 

It was only about 3 feet tall and waddled out from behind a tree like it had only just learned to walk. It looked like a mushroom alright - a large, sentient mushroom.

"You've got to be kidding me," Quar'en whispered to herself.

The little mushroom waddled straight for her and stopped, then reached out and grabbed ahold of her leg.

Quar'en stiffened. It didn't... feel like it was hurting her. She looked up to Tricksie. "What is it...?"

Tricksie seemed dumbstruck, then let out a chorus of laughter. "No way!"

The little mushroom hadn't let go. "No way  _ what?" _

"It thinks you're a big mushroom."

Quar'en opened her mouth to speak, but stopped. Honestly, she wanted to reach out and pet the small creature on the head, but she wasn't sure she trusted Tricksie had told her the whole story. "I don't... look like a mushroom? Do I?"

"Doesn't matter, they can't see anything anyway."

"So why-"

"Your big ass armor, probably."

"My armor?"

Tricksie nodded. "I'm pretty sure those guys talk through their feet thumps. You walk heavy, this little guy was lost and probably thought your big thumps were their momma's big feet thumps."

Quar'en relaxed a little. She reached out a tentative hand and patted the mushroom on the head. The cap was surprisingly soft and smooth.

The little mushroom leaned into her leg.

"They're so... cute."

"They are," Tricksie agreed. "But the big ones are a menace."

Quar'en continued to pet the mushroom. It was very calming and she felt comforted by the little one's presence. "Hey, lil guy," she said. "Long way from home?"

"I'm also quite sure they're deaf."

Quar'en shot Tricksie a look. "We should give him a name."

"We don't even really know if he is actually a he."

"Then something neutral." Quar'en paused to think. "Waddles?"

Tricksie shrugged. "He can't hear you anyway."

"Waddles it is, then." Quar'en stood, still feeling fatigued, and brushed herself off. Waddles waited patiently by her feet. "We should get him home."

"I have no desire to be anywhere near those adult mushrooms."

"We don't have to like... drop him into their hands. But at least get him close enough that he hears the actual thumps of his parents."

"The grave is closer. We'll go there first and if he's still prattling behind you, we can make a pit stop."

"Alright, agreed." Quar'en looked down at Waddles and smiled. She was reminded when her younger siblings would follow her about the yard. Down to the river, up to the Big Oak, to the herb garden... everything she did was worthy of fascination. Something in Quar'en's gut twisted. She gave Waddles another pat.

Tricksie seemed to know the forest like the back of her hand. She weaved around corners and took paths Quar'en hadn't even noticed were there. There were sections of the forest that were darker than others, and parts that seemed to fade in and out of reality. A tree that she had been sure she had already passed would appear again further ahead - if Tricksie didn't seem so confident in her stride, Quar'en would have assumed they were going in circles.

Waddles kept pace, though there were a few times Quar'en had to pick him up to a higher ledge. He would stay still and not struggle at all, just happily let Quar’en place him where he needed to be. A few times he would nuzzle against her face when she lifted him close and her heart nearly burst.

"We've arrived."

Quar'en had her back turned towards Tricksie when she spoke, Waddles tucked neatly into her arms. He'd gotten a bit tired a ways back and Quar'en decided it was best if she just carried him the rest of the way. 

The first thing she saw when she spun to face Tricksie again was the gargantuan size of the gates in front of her. Easily 40 feet high and carved straight from stone. They were open, revealing a large grassy area beyond, but the gates continued to hold Quar'en's attention. "Holy shit."

“Just wait until you see the grave.”

Shifting Waddles higher in her arms, Quar’en followed Tricksie inside. The air felt colder within the glade, with even Waddles seeming to shiver, and the moonlight seemed brighter. The grave was the only thing of note, old and worn, casting a long shadow across the grass. It was completely surrounded by hundreds of swords stabbed into the soft dirt. One sword, much larger than the others by quite a margin, was positioned in front of the grave. “This seems excessive.”

“To you, perhaps.” Tricksie wandered up to the gravestone, leaning against it. “Come on, the stone won’t bite.”

Quar’en wrapped her arms tighter around Waddles. She weaved her way through the swords, taking note of how different each of them were - not a single one seemed to be the same. There were shapes and styles she recognized but many she did not. They seemed to be of all ages, some appearing newer - as if they had just been placed - and some looking as old as the grave. The large sword, however, was what drew Quar’en’s full attention. Even half shoved into the dirt it was easily double her size. What sort of beast could wield something like this?

“Impressed yet?”

Quar’en didn’t answer. She nestled Waddles into the crook of her arm, reaching out with the other to run her fingers along the cool metal. There were designs she didn't recognize carved into the blade itself. Her father would have been appalled - to risk the integrity of the blade for aesthetics! “I’m surprised this hasn’t-”

It suddenly grew dark. Quar’en stumbled back in surprise, pulling her hand to her chest but tripping over one of the swords behind her. She landed hard, nearly dropping Waddles. Her head trailed up the grave to a dark figure standing atop the gravestone itself, the moon being too bright behind it for her to completely make out what it was. Quar’en looked to Tricksie, who seemed completely unmoved. “What is-”

“I’d get to my feet if I were you,” Tricksie chuckled. “Unless you want to die.”

The figure dipped its head, wrapping its jaws around the hilt of the large sword and ripping it from its place. 

Quar’en rolled to the side, pushing herself up from all fours. Waddles seemed to sense the change in mood and started to wiggle. “I can’t fight while holding him!”

Tricksie shrugged. “Then put him down.”

“Where!” Quar’en felt the ground shudder and looked up.

It was a wolf. The beast was a wolf and it had the sword gripped in its mouth. It braced itself and howled.

“I am not going to just put him on the ground somewhere!” Quar’en ran towards Tricksie, extending Waddles out to her. “Take him!”

Tricksie huffed. “If I hold him then I can’t help you fight.”

“You’re not helping much now!”

The ground shuddered again.

“Fuck, fine!” Quar’en slipped behind the grave and placed Waddles into the grass. It wasn't the safest place but, then again, what was? She patted their head. “You stay here okay?”

Waddles, whether or not they understood her, stayed still.

“Good.” Quar’en heard the crackle of lightning and looked up just in time to see Tricksie launch a spear into the air. “Fuck me.” 

The wolf was fast and much more skilled in sword fighting than Quar’en would have assumed... if she had assumed a wolf could wield a sword at all. Her dogs could barely register that they couldn't walk through a narrow doorway with a long stick in their mouths and here she was fighting a giant wolf who seemed more agile in a fight than half her siblings.

Quar'en drew her sword and shield and started to make her way behind the beast. She hadn't planned for a massive fight and her body was reluctant to respond. There was no way she was going to match its speed. If she could take out one of its legs, maybe she could slow it down enough to be useful. She just had to get close enough.

Tricksie seemed to be doing fine in holding her own. She was light enough on her feet to avoid the bulk of the wolf's swings.

Quar'en moved as quickly as her armor would allow her. She hoisted her shield up, anticipating the wolf to turn at any moment. Her hands were sweating inside her gloves. She drew close to the beast's hind leg and swung.

Blade had barely touched flesh before the wolf jerked its leg back. Its paw caught Quar'en in the chest and threw her up and away.

Completely airborne, Quar'en flailed wildly. Her sword slipped from her hand and clattered somewhere below her. She didn't see the ground rising up to meet her until her shoulder slammed into it, tossing dirt and grass into her mouth and sending sharp pains throughout her chest and back. The breath had been knocked completely from her. She rolled, using her good arm to push herself back up. Her breaths were coming in short gasps and her legs felt like jelly. She tasted blood under the dry flavor of dirt.

Tricksie's voice rang out, "Don't let him kick you like that!"

Quar'en's chest burned too much for her to shout a reply. She could see her sword, glinting softly by the treeline. There was no way she'd make it over there, especially with her wobbly legs and the wolf, who was now focusing its attention on her. 

"Get under him! He can't hit you there!"

_ I can't either if I don't have a fucking weapon! _ Quar'en locked eyes with the wolf. He leapt forward in a flash and she skittered back, nearly falling again as the ground thundered under the wolf's weight. It was a miracle her shaky legs kept balance. She spun, racing back towards the gravestone. Her hand pulled the first hilt it touched, unearthing the blade. Quar'en swung it out in front of her only to notice the top half of it had been broken off.

The wolf didn't give her a chance to pull a new one. He lunged forwards between the remaining swords.

Quar'en took Tricksie's advice and ducked under the sword thrust. She gripped her broken blade and, with all the strength her aching shoulders could muster, plunged it into the wolf's stomach. The dull and broken blade gave much resistance trying to get through the wolf's thick fur. 

There was a sudden crackle of electricity and Quar'en let go of the hilt just as another of Tricksie's lightning spears made contact. The wolf howled and Quar'en's hair stood on end. Her gauntlets sparked. She felt the rush of air as the wolf jumped. Quar'en rolled, assuming he planned to try and land her in range of his sword again.

Quar'en didn't see him hit Tricksie. She hadn't even noticed where the wolf had landed his jump before she heard the rippling CRACK of the trees. Her head snapped in that direction, barely able to make out Tricksie's body wrapped unnaturally around the trunk, held momentarily in place by the sheer force of the hit. 

Quar'en's chest tightened painfully.

Tricksie's lifeless body dulled to a pale yellow as it fell to the grass with a pitiful  _ wumph _ noise. It faded in color until it finally disappeared entirely.

The wolf slowly turned back around.

Quar'en heart rose into her throat. She was frozen in place. Her sword was still too far away and there was no way she was going to be able to fight this alone. She saw the wolf jump again and only had the forethought enough to hold up her shield as his blade came down on her.

The weight was enough to splinter her shield. Her heels dug into the dirt and her shoulders screamed. She was going to die. She was going to  _ die. _

Quar'en looked towards the gravestone and in a final show of strength, pushed back just enough to allow her to roll out from under the wolf's sword. She tossed the broken shield off and scooped Waddles into her arms, running back around the gravestone and towards where she last saw her sword.

Quar'en could hear the wolf behind her. Waddles felt ten times heavier with her injured shoulder, but she needed her good arm to grab her sword. She could see the dark black metal shining through the grass. She bent and grabbed it, dragging it and herself past the treeline and into the woods.

She didn't stop running under her knees gave out, dropping her onto the leaves of the forest floor. She heaved in lung-fulls of air against her protesting ribs. She leaned against her sword, letting Waddles waddle out from her arms. With the adrenaline slowly leaving her body, Quar'en was beginning to feel every ache and pain. She scooted back until she found a tree to rest against. 

Quar'en watched Waddles investigate the area, bumping occasionally into a tree or an overgrown root. He grabbed a fern and carried it around for a while. 

"Guess it's just us now, huh?" Quar'en's voice was raspy and strained.

Waddles came towards her, offering the fern.

Quar'en smiled. "Thank you. Do you want to sit?" She patted the space next to her.

Waddles responded eagerly to the pats, heading straight for her hand and picking it up. He placed it against what would've been his face, if he had one.

Quar'en laughed. "I don't know what that means."

Waddles placed her hand back down and then sat on top of it, content.

They sat in silence like that for a while. Quar'en wanted to sleep, but her aching body kept her awake. That, and the fear some other creature might stumble upon them and decide to have them for lunch. Not that Quar'en could do much in her state anyway.

The image of Tricksie wrapped around the tree trunk replayed itself in Quar'en's mind over and over again. She wondered if the snap she'd heard hadn't been the trees, but instead-

Quar'en shook her head. She and Waddles would have to get moving soon. Where-to she didn't know, but they couldn't spend forever in this section of the forest. She groaned, "I don't even know where we are."

"Good thing I'm here, then."

Quar'en tended, wincing at her sore muscles. She turned, making out the familiar golden glow. "Tricksie?"

"Couldn't you have run out back through the gates? It's been a fucking nightmare trying to find you out here."

Quar'en blinked. "But I... you?"

Tricksie drew closer, her face an expression of confusion. "What? You think I died-died? We're pretty much immortal here, what did you expect. Or are you saying you didn't expect me to come find you?" She chuckled. "I definitely debated just leaving but you're a little too much fun to give up just yet."

Quar'en looked down at the grass. She was suddenly overwhelmed, her bottom lip starting to tremble.

"Oh God, please no." Tricksie shoved her hand into Quar'en's face. "No crying, we've got shit to do. Come on, get up."

Quar'en took her hand and stood on unsteady feet. She wiped at her eyes. "I'm just," she paused. "I'm glad not to be alone."

"Have you not died yet?"

"No."

"Well, color me impressed." Tricksie looked over to Waddles. "And I see our little guy is still okay."

Waddles wandered close to Quar'en legs.

"We should be getting him home," Quar'en said.

"That'd be much easier if you hadn't run in exactly the  _ opposite _ direction from them."

"Sorry."

Tricksie rolled her eyes. "Better get moving then. Try not to start any fights with anything this time."

Quar'en laughed, bending down to grab Waddles. Her shoulders resisted, but once she had him settled into her arms it wasn't too bad. She fell into line beside Tricksie. "No promises."


End file.
